


IF THIS BE THE MA!SYMBOL OF LOVE

by Alexandria_Lin



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Culture, Friendship, Love, M/M, Maru-MA, Romance, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandria_Lin/pseuds/Alexandria_Lin
Summary: It starts off with Murata’s so-called girl hunting. But what do mandarin oranges have to do with anything?Yuuri and Murata end up talking about the symbols of love and the gestures people perform in the name of love. And of course Wolf would come to mind. Why wouldn’t he? Especially if it’s Yuuri who is thinking about love …
Relationships: Wolfram von Bielefeld/Shibuya Yuuri
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27
Collections: Maru-MA Royal Couple





	IF THIS BE THE MA!SYMBOL OF LOVE

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [‘A’: OF APPLES AND MY ANGEL](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27820003) by [Alexandria_Lin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandria_Lin/pseuds/Alexandria_Lin). 



> Disclaimer:  
> I do NOT own ‘Maru-MA’ / ‘Kyou Kara Maou!’. Rights and properties of Takabayashi Tomo, etc etc.
> 
> Hahaha! Yes, shamelessly inspired by my own work!  
> Also, I should probably stop spewing these random stuff just to escape from reality! No help for it, I guess!

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?”

Once again, my super smart, Einstein-level genius best friend is up to something that makes me want to roll my eyes and ask, ‘Just how old are you, really?’. But even though his soul holds the memories of all those people who once owned it before him — including the double-black Great Sage of ancient times — he’s still just Murata Ken, a high school teenager who decided it’s a good idea to go girl hunting on a cold February evening!

I had just gotten out of the bath after coming home from school and was playing with my dogs, Cianfrocco and Zinter, when the house phone rang and my Mom picked it up. After a few minutes of light-hearted chit-chat with the person on the other end of the line, my Mom handed me the phone, informing me that it was Ken-chan.

My friend wastes no time in asking if I’m free to come girl hunting with him this evening.

“Girl — what?! That again?” I groaned in exasperation.

“Huh? What’s with that unexcited reaction? Didn’t you use to say you like girls?” he teased mercilessly.

“As in, don’t hate,” I replied without missing a beat. “Murata, you know it’s most probably not going to work, right? I mean, it didn’t work out the last time you were trying to do something like this, when we were working for our part-time summer job at M-Family Guesthouse.”

“That’s all the more reason to try harder this time! We can’t just give up after just one attempt. If we keep trying, we’ll eventually succeed with flying colours!”

“We? What do you mean, ‘we’? You know I’m not interested in something like that. I told you before, I believe love is something you earn, not something you hunt down.”

After bantering back and forth a bit more, he finally convinced me to accompany him, even if I’m not interested.

“I still don’t see why you need me to accompany you for something like this,” I grumbled over the phone. “I’m probably just going to get in the way …”

“Nonsense, Shibuya. Best friends are supposed to be there for moral support and objective opinions. They do it all the time in chick lit and chick flicks, y’know, dragging their friends along when checking out their love interests…!”

“Even if you say so, what do chickens have to do with anything?” Could it be … he has somehow caught the Minchey-ism from Densham von Karbelnikoff?

My friend just laughs through the telephone. “It will be fun, Shibuya! Besides, I already told your Mom our plans for the evening!”

“What?!”

About an hour later, I met him outside the train station, where he promptly dumped two wooden crates into my arms. Unsurprisingly, Murata — who is intellectually but not athletically fit — was huffing and puffing from the exertion of carrying them, and complaining that he really should have asked me to meet him outside his home instead.

And that was how I ended up in my current situation, carrying two crates of mandarin oranges, as we walk out of the station.

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?”

“Like I told you, GIRL HUNTING!” Murata says dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. But why oranges? Wouldn’t chocolates make for better gifts? The colour orange gets on my nerves every time!” I say, glaring at the spots of orange I can see through the little holes in the crates. “Mn, though, come to think of it, I guess I do have some fond memories of oranges in a crate …”

“Oh, you mean that time when you stowed away onboard the Friends on the Sea with Lord von Bielefeld?” Murata clarifies with a smirk. “The two of you were being so cute, playing around like kittens in a box!”

“How do you know about that?!” I yelp, blushing in spite of myself. That was the trip to Small Shimaron that preceded the whole Seisakoku fiasco, and Murata had been left behind on Earth; he had yet to have joined us during my stowaway days with Wolf.

“Heard it from Dacascos! He said the two of you were so adorable, cuddled up together in that wooden crate and packed in with mandarin oranges.” Murata gives me a cheeky wink. “Don’t worry! I haven’t hid your fiance inside one of those crates you’ve got there, so you don’t have to be so afraid he’ll jump out and start scolding you for going girl hunting!”

“In the first place, these crates are way too small!” I snort. “But before that, I’ve said again and again, I’m not here to do anything of the sort; I’m just here to keep you company. And you still haven’t explained what’s with these oranges.”

“Oh, right. Well, you see, today is the fifteenth day of the Lunar New Year,” Murata explains. “In some places, it is celebrated as a sort of Valentine’s Day. It’s the first full moon of the lunar calendar, you know. To be specific, it is celebrated as such in the South-East Asian region, especially in Malaysia. More than a century ago, the Chinese community there started the tradition of throwing mandarin oranges into the sea and rivers, in hopes of finding true love. The belief is that the one who picks up the orange you threw is your destined one.”

As expected, his general knowledge is really extensive.

“Heh … I guess, if it’s a valued tradition somewhere, I shouldn’t comment on how wasteful it is to just throw away whole crates of perfectly good fruits …” I say, thinking about it. “But, what if more than one person picks up the oranges you tossed? Ah — Murata — no way! Could it be … you support polygamy?” I tried but failed to keep the scandalised tone out of my voice. “No, no — I shouldn’t be judging … that’s a personal preference …”

“You wound me, Shibuya! Why would you think that of me?” Murata laughs. “That is what they believe. I don't know if those people who really put their faith in this tradition throw just one orange a year until they find their destined one, or if they throw a whole lot of them. But, if you think about it, the more you toss out, the higher the chances of someone finding and picking them up. Therefore, the greater the selection pool. In other words, that’s perfect for girl hunting!”

“Ugh, you keep saying ‘girl hunting, girl hunting’, but what if the one who picks it up is a guy?”

“Then I’ll take responsibility and date him!”

Ah, yes. He’s said that before, too, back when we were working for M-Family Guesthouse. Back then, that was moments before he got swept with me to the other world, so I wasn’t yet aware of his connection to the Mazokus. But even then, I found what he said — his open-mindedness — admirable. I can’t resist a small smile at hearing it now.

“Don’t you think people will find it strange if you go tossing oranges about, though?” I ask. “And, by the way, Japan hasn’t followed the lunar calendar since the 1870s, during the Meiji Restorations or something, right?”

“That’s true,” says Murata. “This has got nothing to do with the memories of that previous owner of my soul, Christine, who lived in Hong Kong …. But I thought this would be a bit of fun. It was originally supposed to be one crate of oranges each, for both of us, but since you’re so determined not to participate, that’s twice the chances for me, right? See, I’ve even brought along permanent marker pens!”

“Wait, why would you be needing permanent ink? Why do you even need ink, in the first place?”

“To write my contact details on the oranges, of course!” he says this as if it were obvious. “I hear people nowadays include their social media user addresses as well as their phone numbers.”

“Ah, this is getting stranger and stranger by the minute!”

“It’s really not so strange, you know …” Murata says contemplatively. “Throughout the ages, across varying cultures, there are a lot of symbolic gestures tied into traditions relating to love.”

“Yeah, but throwing stuff, though…?”

“Mmm-hmm. Like the Ancient Greeks. They throw apples at their beloved to confess their love and devotion.” He grins. “Really handy, don’t you think? Especially for someone awkward with words and who is lousy at verbally expressing their tender feelings. Even better, if that someone so lousy at discussing personal matters of the heart has great aim and is good at throwing, like … I don't know … baseballs.”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” I frown, because I’d like to think that I have been growing, as in emotionally maturing, in that sense. “Ughh! Apples …. Oranges …. Why can’t they do strawberries, instead? At least Wolf seems to like strawberries ….”

“Then you’d much better be feeding them to him than throwing them at him,” Murata advises wisely. “And it’s not always fruits. In some cultures, people throw rice at newly weds. Ah, and there’s also the tradition where the bride tosses her bouquet into the crowd of wedding guests … and the one who catches it will be the next one to tie the knot.”

“Uwah! What if the catcher is someone who is already married?” I shake my head. “But, that aside, it’s not the objects that are supposed to be thrown that I’m wondering about. It’s the act of throwing itself. I mean, someone can get hurt! What’s up with love causing all these violence?”

“Hmm, I guess you could say it’s passion, Shibuya, passion!” he declares in a Gunter-like manner. “Speaking of throwing things about for love, even in Shin Makoku there are such traditions. Like the old window proposal tradition. In older days, the suitor throws a large rock to destroy the window of their prospective partner. And that is after they’re done singing really loudly and shouting, too!”

“Eeeh!!! That is seriously violent, not to mention very dangerous!”

“Nowadays, they’ve modified the practice to tapping the window with a pebble. But, yes, that is how they did it before. Makes the slapping proposal method much gentler and positively refined, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes … well …” I murmur, my thoughts are on my own marriage proposal.

“So, you see, how you got engaged to Lord von Bielefeld isn’t so ridiculous after all,” he adds knowingly. “In a way, I suppose it symbolises that love can hurt, but you’re willing to stick it out with your partner in marriage. Aha, here’s a good spot!”

I blink, startled.

“Here? In the middle of a bridge?”

“Yup, the perfect spot. We can throw the oranges into the river below.” He nods in satisfaction, leaning against the iron guard rail. “Say, Shibuya, isn’t this the very bridge where you encountered the girl from your panties adventure?”

“Murata! Can you not make it sound so perverted! And let me remind you that that ‘adventure’, as you call it, was started by you, to begin with!” I complain. “But you’re right, this is the same bridge. Though, my encounter with that girl wasn’t really about underwears at all, you know …. Ultimately, it was about her searching for the ring she tossed in. By the way, this river barely reaches your knees. On top of that, the current is really gentle. So any orange you toss in would just sink straight down. You might even be reprimanded for littering and loitering!”

“Wow, so this plain concrete bridge has witnessed such a troubling act of romance! As I thought, the perfect place to search for love.”

“Um, what are you talking about?” I ask, slightly puzzled.

“Didn’t you say she tossed away the ring from her ex-boyfriend, who got a new girlfriend?”

“Er, yeah, something like that …”

“And then she changed her mind and tried to get it back, but couldn’t find it, right? So, she decided to let it go …. That’s quite the romantic tale,” he says, as I put the crates down. “She, too, was throwing stuff in the name of love.”

“When you put it like that …” I consider. “Wait, isn’t there a scene like that in a famous movie? Was it the ‘Titanic’ — at the very end, where she threw her necklace or something into the ocean…?”

“Yeah, lots of people do stuff like that in real life … tossing precious items into seas and rivers in the name of love.”

“That’s environmental pollution!”

“It’s symbolic,” says Murata, pulling out a marker pen. He reaches down and takes an orange out, and begins to write his mobile number on the orange skin. “It’s not just the sort of love with heartbreaks, either. People have been making a tradition out of inscribing their names and the names of their partners onto padlocks, before securing the padlock onto iconic bridges and tossing the key into the river, to symbolise that the couple is locked together forever.”

“I … don’t know …” I say slowly. “That kind of sounds like you’re tying your partner down, locking them away … as though imprisoning them …”

My face must be looking troubled, because Murata elbows me out of it.

“Not everyone is like your beloved tsundere fiance,” he says in amusement.

“What … do you mean?” I ask. “Wolf would never—”

“Exactly.” Murata nods earnestly. “For all his jealous and possessive attitude, he never holds you back.”

“I — yeah …” I say through the tightness in my throat. Many say that Wolf is selfish and what not. But I know better than anyone else how kind he really is; deep down, he is so selfless that it hurts.

“And while we’re on the topic on the symbols of love, have you ever given any thought to that gift from him?” By ‘that gift’, Murata is referring to the majestic golden bird with wide spread wings that Wolf gave me right before my coronation. “Shibuya, he gave you a brooch. Not a necklace, not a ring, but a brooch.” He taps his marker pen on the orange still in his hand for emphasis. “If you ask me, jewellery like necklaces and bracelets are rather clingy … like, they have a much more possessive connotation. A brooch, on the other hand, you have to choose to pick it up and fasten it to the clothes you’re wearing. In other words, it symbolises how he wouldn’t constrain you, but instead allows you to choose of your own will. Sure, it can prick you with it’s pin if you’re not careful … but what is true love without pain, right?”

“Mu—Murata, you — how old are you — really?” I try to say lightly, but my voice is shaking. “That’s — that’s really deep.”

“Mn, and that’s not all,” he continues. “The brooch is a golden bird with outspread wings. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that it symbolises how he wants you to spread your wings and achieve sky-high greatness.”

“I …” I couldn’t finish my sentence. Unconsciously, I press my right hand to the place on my chest, where my fiance had fastened those golden wings so long ago.

“Hmm, I wonder if I should include my e-mail address here, in case I don’t pick up my phone…?” Murata muses absently. “By the way, I apologise for taking it without first asking your permission.”

Oh, yeah, it seems he had tried to reach me by using the brooch from Wolfram, when I was in Seisakoku while Murata was stranded here on Earth.

“Don’t worry about it,” I respond. “It was an emergency, right? So you had to use what you could. You returned it safe and sound, that is what’s important.”

“Still …” He leans out and pauses for dramatic effect, before dropping his orange into the river below. “I can tell it’s one of your most treasured items. The way you keep it reminds me of how my mother stores her most valuable jewelleries. Even though I know your room pretty well, it still took me some time to locate it, only to find it so carefully kept. It really is precious to you, huh?”

“Yeah …” I say honestly, looking down into the clear water below. “Yeah, it is. Murata?”

“Hmm?”

“Um, sorry …. Do you think you can postpone throwing your oranges?”

He follows my gaze to the rapidly expanding ripples from where his orange had sunk below the water surface.

“You must really miss him,” Murata chuckles.

I nod, gaze still on the water.

“Of course,” he says sincerely with a bright smile. “Best friends always come first, above any prospective dates that may or may not even come! Besides, I already threw one in — you never know! Anyway, compared to my nameless, faceless, potential future date, you have an actual someone to get to.”

I smile, and, without another word, clamber up onto the iron guard rail, balancing myself precariously as I bend down to help Murata up. He accidentally kicks and topples the two crates of oranges into the water, before managing to climb up himself.

“Whoa, doesn’t this kind of look like we’re about to commit double suicide? You jump, I jump? Ah, this bridge is really becoming quite the romantic icon.”

“Oh, shut up, Murata! Stop saying such misleading things!”

A few moments later, we find ourselves on the shore of a huge, beautiful lake. Bobbing next to us are the two crates of oranges.

“Great!” Murata cheers. “Looks like I’ll be able to continue my orange love hunt here in Shin Makoku, after all!”

“Huh? Murata, please don’t start another weird tradition here! I really don’t need something like getting kissed by Ao under the mistletoe or being pelted by acoco beans again! Ah, but never mind that for now,” I say, looking around. “Do you know where we are right now?”

“Hmm, I can’t be sure, but it looks like this might be Lake Tosa in the Christ territories,” Murata answers, also looking around.

Right on cue, I hear the loud wailing of ‘Your Majestyyyyyyy!!!” coming from the Royal Tutor and Advisor and the Lord of the Christ territories himself, Gunter. This is followed by “Yuuri!” from two voices that instantly put a huge smile on my face.

The Christ territories …. I guess that is not too out of the ordinary. I had landed in the Voltaire and the Karbelnikoff territories before, after all. And as far as entrances go, this is downright pleasant! At least I didn’t end up surfacing in a barrel of alcohol, or worse, the sewage tunnels!

The next moment, we’re being greeted by Wolfram, Greta and Gunter. Once general greetings were exchanged, Murata catches Gunter and Greta’s attention to his oranges. He didn’t need to say it, but I know this is to give Wolf and me a private moment together.

“Hmph! Took you long enough to come home, you henachoko!” Wolf huffs, crossing his arms.

“Mmm …”

After we separate from our warm … um … personal greeting, I simply stare, mesmerised, into Wolf’s stunning green eyes that always remind me of the bottom of the lake. Though now that we’re right next to a lake, I must say his eyes are far more enchanting than any lake could ever be.

“Yeah, I’m home …” I murmur, more to myself, as I wrap my arms once more around my fiance and bury my face in his neck. “I guess I’m glad I accompanied Murata girl hunting after all.”

“Excuse me?”

Uh-oh!

“Wolf, wait — it’s not what it sounds like!”

When an angry angel-like bishounen looks at you like that, you can’t help but want to confess everything. And so I told him all about Murata’s aspiration with the oranges and everything we talked about … all those symbols of love …

By the end of my rambling explanation, Wolf is resisting a smile. Ah, you’re really too stingy with that smile!

And, if somehow some bizarre gesture of pelting people with citrus fruits comes about in Shin Makoku — who even knows how something like that got introduced as a symbol of love?!

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, the ending seems a bit rushed, though …. Ah, well …  
> I was originally going to do something about this being the first full moon of the lunar calendar, and the Royal Couple spends it together … complete with the whole ‘The moon is beautiful tonight’ scene … you know, that iconic saying ‘I love you’ without saying so. Geez, cliche much? Hahaha!


End file.
